Writing Boards

My first two children were funny in that they both wanted to learn how to write their name at 3 years old. This was exciting but also troubling because it is hard for a 3 year old to write. It is even harder for a 3 year old to accept failure. And even harder than all that is a 3 year old's ability to be patient while erasing any mistakes. Upon my daughter's first try, and therefore her first writing-temper-tantrum-meltdown, I quickly realized that I needed to do something to make it easier for her so she wouldn't give up. This led me to make writing boards for my kids. I printed out the following pages, glued the first two and last two together, back to back, (I also glued another sheet of paper in between them to make it thicker and prevent images from the back appearing on the front, but you could also just print them on the front and back of a page of cardstock), took them to a print shop to have them laminated, bought some dry erase markers, and VOILA! Now my kids could practice writing their name as often as they wanted. There is also a full number/letter page, a shape tracing page to help kids learn basic pencil strokes, and a fun page for making faces. My kids LOVED these. Now when they made mistakes they didn't even have to tell me, they just swiped the mistake off with their finger or a napkin and kept going. They were great for in the car, at church, in waiting rooms, any place. And it was great seeing how confident my kids were in their writing when we eventually went back to paper. Oh, and I've also made these for other children for birthdays, and if you made them big enough you could even use them for placemats at the table.

Vim Cream

Ok, so I may not be doing exactly this with my pregnant body, but I will be getting down and dirty with the dirt in my house today.

This Post Is Brought To You Today By The Letter L

(This L has been rudely swiped from Amy Zaleski Illustration & Lettering. You should check out her blog. She is a fun artist and is desiging every letter of the alphabet in a unique and fun way.)

Tama, from The Twisted Hare (about all things yarny), took pity on me and tagged me for this game. It is nice to have something easy to blog about. =)


SCATTERGORIES...It's harder than it looks! Erase my answers, enter yours, send it on to 10 people including the one that sent this to you. Use the first letter of your first name to answer each of the following. They have to be real places, names, things..nothing made up! Try to use different answers if the person in front of you had the same 1st initial. You CAN'T use your name for the boy/girl name question.



WHAT IS YOUR NAME: Liz, Libby, Lizardo, Frizzy Lizzy

4 LETTER WORD: Love, Lick, Like, Lamb, Loss, Lust, Lips, Loot, Lisp, Lilt

VEHICLE: Love Bug (Oh how I loved this dumb movie when I was little. I refuse to watch the new Lindsey Lohan one though. Fake boobs and Disney just should not mix.)

TV SHOW: Lost (I'm waiting for season 4 to come out on DVD to renew my addiction. I am too impatient to watch one episode a week)

CITY: London (Ok, I am rereading my list and now I'm laughing at myself. I seriously couldn't think of any US cities starting with L. Now I'm thinking of tons of them)

BOY NAME: Les (When I moved from NY to Idaho I thought Les Schwab Tires was pronounced "Lay" Schwab, you know, 'cause it's French. My husband still teases me about this)

GIRL NAME: Louisa Laura Lou Lynn (All one name. This name is only legal in 3 States)

OCCUPATION: Lawyer (Lap Dancer was the first thing that came to mind and it really bothers me that my mind works like that)

SOMETHING YOU WEAR: Leg Warmers (I don't know how to spell leederhozen)

FOOD: Lemon bars, Lemon cheesecake, Lemon sorbet, Lemon Chicken, Lemon-garlic artichoke dipping sauce, Lemon cream pie, (Need I go on?)

SOMETHING FOUND IN A BATHROOM: Lint and Lime Deposits

REASON FOR BEING LATE: Lost my keys (As in everyday, 5 times a day. And, yes, we do have a special place to put them so I won't loose them. Doesn't work)

SOMETHING YOU SHOUT: Look at me when I'm talkin' to you!!!!


I'm not sure who to tag so if you want to do this please leave a link to your post in the comments so I can come read it. Thanks!

SBmail

I have several things I want to blog about... I really wish I had some ice cream to blog about. Due to lack of time, however (my weekends have been crazy lately), and lack of functioning brain cells, I am going to leave you with a bit of Pablo.

Pablo loves the computer. I don't dare say, "Then why don't you marry it?" because I'm afraid he would challenge the constitutional definition of marriage and do just that. Because of this we are very careful about how much time he is allowed on it. And anytime he acts up while using the computer (like throwing a fit when it is time to get off) he looses his ability to be on the computer for a running amount of days. The funniest/saddest one was when he threw a fit and I said, "Ok, that is one day no computer." He stomped his foot at me. "Ok, two days." He fell to the floor. "Three days." Get the idea? Well, he worked his way up to 18 days... 18! And if he acts up during that 18 days he gets more days added on. He was an angel for 18 days straight. It was amazing. Finally the day came, he did all his chores (another computer using rule) and his homework, and he got on the computer. He played for a good long time and then it was time for dinner. He threw another fit. "One day. Ok, that's two. Three, you'd better stop. Four." He got it back up to 10. Poor guy. Those days are over now, though, as he has finally learned how to control himself with regards to the computer and he is a super sweet angel about pausing his game so I can use it, or turning it off when it is time to stop. But he still does something very interesting that he has always done. When he is not on the computer he will draw what it was he was doing on the computer. He will draw picture after picture of detailed battle scenes from Age Of Empires. He will make page after page of stink o' man video game screens. And, just recently, he drew these Strong Bad Emails (Lately SBemails have gotten weirder and grosser. For this reason Pablo has to draw it instead of watch it. Several years ago these were a bit more kid friendly so I linked to an older one. And I swear I clean that dry erase board once a week. They just use it so much it always looks like that.):

How I Raise Boys

(Click on this picture to see where you can buy the armor)

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I had a girl first. I thought I was so smart way back then. She was perfect and I figured that perfection had come from my parenting skills... right? Then I had a boy and he quickly proved me wrong. With him it seemed that nothing I did was right. He liked to eat books as a small baby, and loved to break anything he could get his hands on, and for some reason he thought that garbage and toilet paper from the toilet tasted better than cheerios. And forget vegetables, as far as he was concerned it was the vegetables that belonged in the garbage. Then came boy #2, and boy #2 felt that he needed to out-boy boy#1. So, boy #2 took it upon himself to try and die in a new and gruesome way everyday. He created messes the likes which only Katrina can top. And once these two boys were old enough to play together I quickly learned that choking and kicking each other in the throat was the way that they were going to decide who got to sit in which chair, or who got to turn on the TV first.

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My first conclusion upon learning all this was that I am an awful parent. I cried a lot, I went a little crazy, and then I decided to throw out all my original ideas about parenting (you know, the ones about being publicly acceptable, owning unbroken jewelry, and talking in a normal voice) and just try to love these new creatures that I had been given. Letting go of preconceived notions was the best thing I ever did, I only wish I had done it earlier, it would have saved some of my sanity I think. I also learned to embrace and love all things boy. Now I have always been a sort of Tom-boy and already loved dirt, worms, and catching bugs. I had even raised my daughter to love these things. No, I'm talking about REALLY loving pirates, swords, knights, sports, physical contact, and pain. But the best thing I ever did with my boys was getting them excited about knights.

First I let them play *GASP* a computer/video game called Age of Empires with their daddy. I bought them lots of swords and staged many family sword fights with them. We practiced hand to hand combat and perfected our playing dead skills together. We read books about knights, we watched movies about knights, we had knight themed parties, we bought plastic armor, etc. (mind you we were also doing many other things, but I was taking this knight stuff seriously).

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Now, why did I work so hard to get my boys to love knights? Because along with the fun, I was able to teach them about manners, how to play without hurting, and that obeying rules is heroic. My boys learned that the privilege of owning swords is earned by using the sword with discipline. Just ask them about the rules and they will say:

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1. Swords only touch swords

2. We only fight with people who want to fight

3. If someone isn't having fun we stop

4. If the sword touches a person it gets taken away

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And then sit back and watch them go at it. Because they have to be mindful of each other they have learned to carefully choreograph their fighting and it actually has made it more fun for them. And boy do they get upset when other kids don't follow these rules!

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I taught my boys that all knights have to protect a Queen, and that I (until they are married) am their Queen. Knights bring flowers, give kisses, open the door, and are very gentle with their Queen (this was especially important for boy#2 to learn because he is abnormally strong and would often hurt me). This has also come in very handy with this pregnancy because I am often rendered incapable of bending over due to pain. They are the first to run and pick up things that I need. And I am a good Queen and reward my knights with smiles and kisses and they love it! I teach them that all women are princesses and to be treated with good manners (though they often need reminding of what those good manners entail).

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Are my boys perfect now? Well, what do you mean by perfect? Their faces, and feet are often dirty, their room is often a mess, they still fight dirty on occasion, and the Queen still has to reprimand them on an almost daily basis. But, they are kind to me, they do not yell at me (though they find subtle ways to let me know how they feel), they play well with each other 90% of the time, and they really have a desire to do what is right. And as far as I'm concerned that is just about as perfect as it gets.

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What unique tricks have you learned for raising difficult children?

Adding To My Blog Addiction

(I rudely swiped this all too perfect image from HERE)

Every now and then, when I am feeling particularly lazy and need something to do that doesn't require physical movement or too many brain cells, I like to go blog hopping. I jump from random blog to random blog, sometimes finding something good enough to read and, though rare, sometimes even finding something that is worth putting down my ice cream so I can leave a comment. Usually, though, even if I find something good I don't usually go back because it really is hard to keep up with the blogs I already read daily. But then there are the rare, wonderful moments when I find a great blog, a blog so awesome that not only do I read and comment, but I get hooked and spend obscene hours ignoring my family as I read through all of their archives and past posts, leaving an embarrassing amount of comments in their email inbox. Usually these are blogs that have been recommended to me by other bloggers. Well, I have just finished reading ALL, as in every single post, from a blog that my friend, Becky, mentioned in her blog. If you are interested in Crohn's Disease, are raising boys, have twins, have a hard time surviving the wonderful world of momness, or just need to feel like you aren't the meanest mom ever, you will love this blog:

The Meanest Mom

Now, I really need to get the dishes done, make dinner, and wash my kids' faces so that my husband won't think I've been doing nothing but read blogs all day. =)

Funny Science

I am off to teach a bunch of boys about the filtering systems of the human body. In honor of today's subject, I leave you with one of my dad's favorite jokes. It must be read with heavy Irish brogue.

Shamus is lying on his death bed and beside him is his bosom buddy, Finn.

"Finn, Finn, I need ta ask yeh ta do me one last thing behfor me bones are covered in dirt."

"Shamus, mah boy, yeh only need ask an it's done."

Reaching out a shaky finger, Shamus points to the bed side table. "Open tha drawer and pull out what's inside."

Finn opens the drawer and pulls out a bottle of very old and very fine whiskey. "Ai, I have it now."

"Right. Now, Finn, once they've lain this sorry body in the ground, and before they've laid the mud over me box, I'm askin' that ye pour that fine whiskey there all over me casket. Would ye be doin' that now for your dear old friend?"

Finn looks at that fine bottle of whiskey, then he looks at his friend, he looks back at the whiskey and then slowly says:

"Sure, Shamus, sure... but... but would you mind if I be pourin' it through me kidneys first?"

The Weekend in Pictures

The Saturday before last was a gorgeous sunny day with temps reaching 80 degrees. We were sorely unprepared that lovely day. Not wanting to be unprepared this last weekend I packed the kids into the car after school on Friday and headed to the store to get (among many other things) some of these: A trip that should have taken us only 3 hours in total took us a whopping 6 1/2 hours because of the weather induced traffic jam we were stuck in. We managed to make it home with enough time for the kids to play in this: (Notice the bikes laying out after riding in the sunshine the day before)

Cookie said her face was cold. Sweet Terror refused to wear a coat because it is Spring.

While the snow kept falling (we had 4 inches on our deck railing that night) I stayed up till midnight making cupcakes, cakes, and more cupcakes, for Saturday's Cub Scout Cake Auction. Following a link from Scribbit I found this great idea on flicker and made these Settlers of Catan Cupcakes. They turned out pretty cool if you ask me (considering it was after midnight by the time I finished them). If I make them again there are several things I would do different but I'm not complaining.

Then, Saturday, I went above and beyond anything I've ever attempted before in the cake arena. Now, you must know that I am an awful cake decorator. On my kids' birthdays I usually make them cakes out of stacked and decorated Little Debbie Snack cakes because I am so bad at cake decorating. As soon as my knife gets near a cake it crumbles. I don't even like cake so maybe that has something to do with it. However, this awesome site called Instructables had this cake design for a 3D dragon and the instructions were so good I thought I'd give it a try (plus I did go to that cake decorating class with Cookie for her Keepers Club). I gotta say, I pretty impressed with myself. Check out his Apple Fruit Roll Up wings. If it weren't for Cookie prodding me along he would have just been a dinosaur (I have problems staying focused on things that take longer than an hour to make), but she encouraged me all the way to completion.

And isn't it so appropriate that Cookie made a Cookie Monster Cake? We made this one up all on our own. For the face we melted white and semi sweet chocolate and spread the shapes for the eyes and mouth on wax paper. We were going to make real cookies for him to eat but I was so tired of baking that Cookie brilliantly thought of using the tops of our left over spice cupcakes with a few chocolate chips pushed in for faux cookies. Good girl, Cookie!

We also cleaned a LOT. I'm sorry, but I just don't think regular cake is worth all the mess we made in the kitchen. And I must have washed my hands a gazillion times.

Saturday morning DSSH and I went to the Seattle Temple and then out to lunch. And Saturday night we took the whole family to the cake auction/appetizer potluck/dance activity at church. It was so much fun dancing with my husband. It has been far too long since we've done that. One of my favorite memories of DSSH and I falling in love has to do with a magical night of dancing. But that is for another post. Oh, and at the auction I spent all of DSSH's money bidding on a pumpkin cheesecake that the baby just HAD TO HAVE NOW!!! And, An Ordinary Mom, it is going fast so if you want a slice I suggest you hurry on over. =)

Sunday we went to church and then I came home to do even more baking for an unexpected baptism that evening. I am so done with baking today. We may just eat cold cereal for every meal, well except for me. I will be eating my pumpkin cheesecake. MMmmmmm!

And now it is haling. Monster Man says they are white ants dancing on the ground.

Happy Weekend

Have a great weekend everyone. I won't be able to post 'till Monday because I am so stinkin' busy and so very tired. But I promise that Monday will be full of boring pics of all that I'm doing. If you just can't stand the wait you can get a sneak peak here:

Cupcakes

Cake

Oh and a little of this too (As in wearing them, not knitting them. I'm not THAT cool.):

More Freezer Stocking

If you read in the news tomorrow about a lady's frozen body being found in the ice cream section of a certain grocery store please let my husband know that I've been found. Thank you.

Notice in the fine print it says "Limit 2." This is why I have lots of children. I'll give them each 5 bucks and two pints to hold. And I'll bring several disguises so we can go through multiple times without getting caught. "Who wants to wear the pink wig and polyester Mu mu?" *insert maniacal laughing* Yeah, ice cream does this to me.

Restocking the Freezer

Time to restock my freezer, but not with ice cream. Shocked? Well, I will be replacing the ice cream that was consumed this last week, but my goal today is to restock my freezer with cookie dough. It is rule #2 of successful mothering, isn't it? And I have not been very successful in that area this last month. Thanks to several drool causing posts I am off to make love to my amazing Kitchen Aid mixer and whip up these lovely looking photos:

Magirk's Awesome Chocolate Chip Cookies (That picture just screams for a glass of milk and a good book)

Mrs. Annie's Grandma Ida's Oatmeal Cookies (I'm putting your bragging to the test.) =)

Michal's Chocolate Chip Pecan Cookies (I have been saving my precious Guittard Milk Chocolate chips for just such a recipe. And I saved some pecans from my recent pecan pie bars for this too. Never make a 9x13 pan of pecan pie bars unless you are going to give them away. I hope I don't get the mean nurse at my next appointment because I'm sure those pecans did some damage.)


And then I will be whipping up a big batch of my Grandpa's Favorite Gingersnaps too. I don't have any pics because I'm usually too busy fighting my family for a few to get my hands on a camera.


Grandpa’s Favorite Gingersnaps

*DSSH always likes these fresh from the oven with a cold glass of milk. If you take a bite of a warm cookie and a drink of cold milk the milk will make it crunch up but it will still be warm and gooey on the inside. You can freeze the dough for up to 3 months in a freezer ziplock bag.

Ingredients
¾ C. Butter or Margarine
¾ C. Shortening
2 C. Sugar
2 eggs
½ C. Molasses
Mix the above till smooth
Add:
4 C. Flour
2 tsp. Baking Soda
2 tsp. Cinnamon
2 tsp. Ground Cloves
2 tsp. Ground Ginger

Mix well then shape into balls (I use a cookie scoop that measures exactly at a tablespoon. So if your cookie balls are larger you may have to increase baking time) and roll in sugar.
Bake at 375 degrees for 8-10 minutes. I use a small cookie scoop and only leave them in for 8 minutes. Cool on a wire rack.

The Sweetness Of Sweet Terror

I am always telling people that my face gets very puffy when I am pregnant. Case in point are my before and after pics of Sweet Terror's birth. The first is taken the day that I went into labor. The second photo is only a month later and already my face was returning to normal.
PUFFY FACE:

LESS PUFFY FACE: I mentioned earlier that Sweet Terror's birth really deserves its own post and, for lack of anything else to blog about, I think it is time to post it. Really I need to post about each of my children's births just so I know it is written somewhere. This is very long so don't feel like you have to read it. =)

WARNING: The beginning of this is really rather graphic and disturbing and I don't mean that in a comical way. So, don't let your kids read over your shoulder, and please don't eat while reading.

It was 7am, the usual time for waking up, and I stretched as I woke up. The stretch ended in a yell of pain as I curled up on the bed in physical pain. It felt like someone had just sucker punched me in the gut. The pain lasted only a minute and then I was fine. Thinking it was just a wired woman thing I continued to get up and almost fainted. I stabilized myself, figured I had got up too fast, and kissed my husband goodbye, assuring him that I was fine and it was just a bad cramp. Later, around 3pm, I started my period. I hadn't had my period for a couple months but that was normal for me and I figured it explained the earlier pain, just a bad menstrual cramp, right? I don't think I have ever bled so badly in my life. I was changing my Extra Absorbent tampon and Extra Long Overnight pad every two hours and still staining my pants. Then, about 10pm, while changing another round of cotton protection, I felt a mass of something pass through me and fall in the toilet. It was such a shocking feeling I actually scooped through the stuff in the toilet to find what it was. It appeared to me to be a small wad of fleshy something or other, and I also found what seemed like a small piece of liver or an extremely thick and complex blood clot. I have had really freaky periods before and I've seen some monster blood clots in my time but this was something new. I cleaned up, flushed the toilet, silently crawled into bed, snuggled close to my husband and whispered in his ear,

"DSSH, I think I just had a miscarriage." He asked me how I knew, I explained what I had seen, he didn't know what to do or what to say, and neither did I. The bleeding stopped only 10minutes later. Completely stopped. What was I supposed to think? I was on birth control. I had been taking my birth control faithfully every morning between 8:00 and 8:30 every morning for the last year and a half. I did not want to be pregnant, I was actually really hoping that in a year we could make the decision to permanently prevent ourselves from conceiving again. Maybe I should have been relieved? But it was a life, or a possible life, that had tried to grow in my body and now it was gone.

The next morning my husband offered to stay home but I knew he couldn't miss his classes that day. I kissed him goodbye, then I called my mom and I cried, a lot. I was so confused. We were a poor student family and we did not have medical insurance. I had to make an appointment with medicaid to see an approved nurse to see if it was really a miscarriage and to see what I needed to do next. The waiting was the worst part. I wanted to grieve but wasn't even sure if I had something to grieve about. I had such mixed emotions and my heart just couldn't be logical about any of it. The next day I met with the nurse and took a pregnancy test. It was positive. I had been pregnant. I started crying like a baby. She tried to tell me that it was a good thing, I had been on birth control, I didn't want a baby, I should be happy that I didn't have to have an abortion, etc... I know she was trying to make me feel better, but she wasn't. She scheduled me for an ultrasound to make sure that it had all passed.

DSSH came home that night and I fell into his arms crying. I cried for a baby that wasn't wanted and that never had a chance to be wanted. I cried because I didn't know what else to do. I cried because I had let that little body down. My husband held me. I'm still not sure what was going through my husband's mind that day (I should ask him), if he felt any loss or if he was just as confused as I was. He held me close and whispered that if I wanted to try and have another baby after this he would fully support me in it. It was an exhausting night.

The next day I was in the ultrasound office (alone again as my husband is in class) waiting for the technician. Looking around I notice a board full of ultrasound pictures from the various stages of pregnancy, 1 week, 2 weeks, 9weeks, 38 weeks,etc. In comes the technician and I tell my story for the 4th time that day and how I am there to make sure everything has passed from the pregnancy. I lay down and she inserts the wand. Instantly I recognize an image similar to the one labeled "9 weeks" on the wall. "Oh, there is a heart beat, and a good strong one too." she says. I cry harder than I have cried the last 2 days. How? How could this be? How could there still be a baby? How could I be pregnant? Oh my gosh, I don't want to be pregnant! Yay, the baby is alive. Why don't I want it to be alive? Why is this happening? That poor technician, I don't think she was prepared for my reaction. I was sobbing and rambling on and on about my situation and my confusion. I left with a picture of a faint white blur with a bright light in the middle for a heart, and a pile of Kleenex pressed to my face. My husband comes home to an even soggier wife than the night before. He holds me and calmly tells me that this is wonderful, that I can do this, that it will all be ok, and that he is happy.

I spent several months in a blur of pregnant confusion. Often my prayers would include me telling Heavenly Father that I was ok if this baby had to miscarry too because I really was scared of having another baby. I was scared of bonding or getting attached because I was told there was a risk of miscarriage due to the previous bleeding/miscarriage. It was a tear filled, sleepless, guilt ridden time for me.

Later, after a very trying ultrasound experience (I had to go by myself with my three children and the two boys happened to be very mischievous and active at that time. Picture me on the table, holding Monster Man's hand as he crawls under my table and tries to unplug any wire he can find, and Pablo crawling up over my head to push buttons on the wall, and Cookie obediently sitting in her chair reading a book. When the doctor asked if I wanted to know what I was having I was almost too scared to answer. I finally asked for the sex and she said it was a girl. Just to make sure she wasn't trying to pull a dirty trick on me I asked her to show me several times that it was a girl. I said, "Now, are you just saying that you don't see a penis, or are there actual girl organs that you are sure won't change into boy parts?" She was certain and was very patient as she highlighted the special little white blurs that meant it was a girl. As Monster Man was making the bed tip, and Pablo had just made something beep, I started to cry in relief.) anyway, after the ultrasound, and after the baby started to kick I finally allowed myself to accept this coming baby and to feel joy. It was exciting to think of having a girl, to use that blessing dress that I had bought when I thought Pablo would be a girl, to use that lovely name I had picked out for Pablo when I thought he would be a girl, to fulfill that dream that my husband I both had, when we were newly married, of having two girls. Yes, I was excited to be having a girl and I'm sure that makes me sexist but I don't care. Bring on the pink! I was ready for it.

But, isn't this supposed to be about the birth? Oh yeah, but now that seems to pale in comparison to all the other birthing stories you've all shared, so I will just make it short and sweet.

I was 8 days overdue and scheduled for inducement (as I am with all my babies, my body does not like going into labor and my water has never broken by itself) and my mom was visiting. Figuring that I had nothing to loose I decided to finally give in and try that old caster oil idea. I drank 3 tablespoons (I just pretended I was eating EXTREMELY greasy onion rings and it really wasn't so bad) and then packed the kids up to go to the aquarium with my mom. We walked all over the place. On the way home I felt contractions but they didn't hurt, they just caused me to stop talking for a few minutes here and there. The contractions kept coming but I was sure they were just Braxton Hicks and nothing to worry about. My husband came home and kept asking if I was in labor. "I really don't think so. Labor hurts WAY worse than this. I think I was just over active today so my body is a bit wound up." We all went to bed and at about midnight my water broke. MY WATER BROKE. It was amazing. My husband rushed me to the hospital, I was put in the smallest birthing room I've ever been in (apparently you only get the good room when you have a reservation), I was given the worst iv I've ever been given (nurses, when an experienced mother shows you which vein to poke, please listen, no matter what you were told in medical school yesterday, because she knows what she is talking about. After 7 tries, and my screaming and crying in serious pain, an older nurse finally came in and used the vein I had been pointing to and it slid in without a problem), and the baby started coming.

That little room was so hot that they had to put ice packs on my head, I started to loose consciousness so then they had to put an oxygen mask on me, so my face was covered in all this stuff and it was hard to scream and push while feeling like I was wearing Darth Vader's mask. Luckily she just slid right out. It was is if the birth canal was greased and ready with all the oil I had drunk. She came so fast that they weren't able to get a needed antibiotic into my system before delivery and so they whisked her away to do some testing. This was the first time that the baby wasn't put instantly on my chest and I freaked out. I was yelling, "Where's my baby, WHERE'S MY BABY?!?!?!" as I rip all the stuff off my face and head. Everyone, including my husband, was so intent on the new baby that it took them awhile to realize that the lady on the bed was going to start killing people if they didn't show her her baby or at least explain what was going on. They gave me my new little girl and I quickly calmed down.

She was born on Thanksgiving Day. Sweet Terror was a chubby, red, healthy baby. She was such a good baby, too. She ate well, she slept well, she was easy to please. She was a breath of fresh air after the Monster Man and Pablo babies. She may be a terror now but she is also very sweet and I am so glad that she managed to make her way here despite my efforts not to conceive again. It was because of her calming influence on me that I felt it possible for me to have another. Thank you, Sweet Terror, for coming into my life. I love you!

Can Mom's Keep The Sabbath Day Holy?

When I was newly married my MIL joked about keeping the Sabbath day Holy. She quoted Deuteronomy 5:14 "But the seventh day is the sabbath of the Lord thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, nor thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thine ox, nor thine ass, nor any of thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates; that thy manservant and thy maidservant may rest as well as thou."

MIL: "See, they mention the servants, strangers, even the donkey, but nothing is said about the mother not working. Mom's never get to rest, not even on the Sabbath."

My first reaction to this was to think, "Oh come on, it's not that bad. And really you could keep it holy if you wanted to."

Then I became a mother myself and I realized that really a mother can't rest. At least, not a mother of small children. Babies must be nursed, diapers must be changed, food must be prepared, kids need to be dressed. It is simply impossible to expect that a mother can spend all day in reverent prayer and worship on any given day of the week. Recently I started to take upon myself this one complaint of my MIL and began to feel like a victim. "Oh poor me, I'm a slave, I am lower than the ass, I must work on Sunday." I've never liked feeling like a victim and I quickly realized that I really wasn't liking myself with this victim attitude going on. So, like many young mothers I know, I have been trying to improve my Sabbath day with small and steady changes. Sure, I may not be able to sit in silent meditation all day long, but neither did Christ. Even he healed the sick on the Sabbath. Keeping the Sabbath Day holy is not just about what we should and shouldn't do, but the spirit in which we do things.

Sure I must feed my family, but the food can be simple like tonight's dinner from the Crockpot Lady (Thank you for your awesome and funny blog). I don't need to do it all myself. If I can work in the kitchen, so can everyone. This way the work is quick and family bonding is happening, which is a holy thing.

Sure I must help the younger kids get dressed, but I can have their clothes ready the night before, I can have their daddy help them, and I can do it with a smile and a good sense of humor so it is a fun time instead of a chore.

Sure diapers must be changed or potty training bums be wiped, but.... ok, I'm sorry, there is just no way that is ever going to be a holy thing. It just stinks. But I can remind myself that it won't be this way forever. Someday, in the distant future there will be a day when I am released from the bonds of pottydom and I will sing praises all day long. And until that day I can at least stop my whining and do it with a smile... even if it is a fake smile.

And really, I need not do it all every Sunday. My husband and I can switch off Sundays, giving each other a turn at having a relaxing, meditative Sunday. The kids can be expected to clean up after themselves (or just not make any messes for ONE day every week) and to help with the younger kids.

We can have well planned Sunday-worthy activities ready to do.

I can have a holy attitude one day each week and, thereby, keep my Sabbath day holy.

And if all else fails we can all take naps. =)

It's All In How You Say It

Nurse to me last week: "Hmmmm, you have gained a LOT of weight since the last time we saw you. You know that isn't good right? You should only have gained 3-5 pounds and you've gained 11. You really need to be more watchful of what you eat, dearie. Remember, you aren't really eating for two, ok? Ok."


Me, later that evening talking to my husband: "Waaaaaaaa, she called me faaaaaat."
Husband to me: "What kind of ice cream do you want?"
Me to husband: "You want me to be fat. It's all your fault. Waaaaaaaaa! I'll take a bowl of sorbet, please. Waaaaaaaa."

Doctor to me yesterday: "Ok, looking at your chart it says that your weight jumped a bit, but where are you putting it all? You look fabulous to me! Look at your legs, they are so skinny. I'm sure it is just water weight but keep an eye on it anyway. I don't want you getting too uncomfortable the closer we get to your due date."

Me to husband, later that day: "My doctor is so nice. She said I look fabulous."
Husband to me: "What kind of ice cream do you want?"
Me to Husband: "What, and ruin my fabulous figure? No thanks, I think I'll just munch on some veggie sticks and finish off this water bottle."

It's not what you say, but how you say it.

Scientific Method

I have been conducting an experiment this past month. Others might say I've just been lazy beyond belief but I was just working undercover so as not to influence the test subjects (Did you know that fuzzy bathrobes make for great camouflage?).

Scientific Method requires a question, a hypothesis, an experiment, recorded outcome, and conclusion

Question: What gives my children more joy?

Hypothesis: Oh, who am I trying to kid. I knew the answer all along but was really enjoying being lazy.

Experiment: Let children glut themselves on toys, games, and movies. Leave them free to play by not having them do any chores. Let them live in their own filth. After an adequate amount of time for subjects to get used to situation suddenly have them do chores, clean, get rid of LOTS of their toys, games, and movies, and teach them new working skills.

WARNING: The following includes highly graphic and disturbing material. If you are judgemental or squeamish in any way please exit this window immediately and find a craft or recipe blog to read.

Record of experiment:

Week one: kids were fine, no one complained, house got messy, I watched many movies and gained 7 pounds, husband was a bit shocked.

Week two: kids still seem fine. Subject #1 walks around sighing a lot and subject #3 has been reverting to 3 year old types of mischief (drawing on younger sibling, furniture and walls). House continues to increase in messiness, a blockbuster movie is missing and we are being charged for the movie but I can't find it in all this mess. I read a book, watched 3 movies, checked all my regular blogs twice and then went looking for new blogs to read, gained 4 pounds and stopped feeding my children. Husband is quieter than usual.

Week 3: Kids are acting funny. They seem to enjoy fighting and whining and complain of being bored. Also, there language is being affected and they are using "bad" words like stupid, dummy head, fart, and buster (for some reason that last name made subject #1 cry). They say there is nothing fun to do and when I recommend cleaning they suddenly disappear. They ask to go to the park or to play computer games but there are firm rules about chores and such things. Kids apparently prefer being bored to cleaning. I have stopped cooking all together, have served cold cereal for dinner 3 times this week and ordered pizza another night. Laundry has not been done for 3 days and there are no socks or underwear for the kids. Husband tosses ice cream at the primitive mother beast and hides in his office to play Sudoku.

Week 4: Kids are banished from my presence they have become so annoying. Because they have taken apart or destroyed all their toys and games they have started taking apart the house. Fake wood trim has been torn off, a window is cracked, and there are 7 new stains on the living room carpet. I am experiencing a funny emotional disconnect to the whole situation. It feels like an out of body experience as I look around and think, "Man, what monsters live here?" Suddenly I look down at the unshaven legs peeking out from my bath robe and I realize, the monster is ME! Husband is unable to hide in his office because I have started moving all my hideous piles into that room and there is no room for him. Instead he goes to bed early.

****For the safety of the test subjects it is determined that the experiment must be moved into phase 2 and FAST!

Day one: I announce that it is time to do some cleaning. Kids disappear. I leave them be and use the time to clean my own filth.

Day two: A repeat of Day one but subject #2 actually picks up several objects before fading into the debris.

Day three: I bath all subjects, trim their claws/nails, cut hair on male subjects so as to be able to see their eyes, and force them all out into natural sunlight for 2 hours. Then I make them eat some fresh fruit and vegetables. This seems to calm them. We attempt to clean. Subject #1 goes into a rage, subject #2 is willing to participate in the new activity, subject #3 complains that his feet hurt and he itches, subject #4 is put down for a nap. We clean for 2 straight hours but little difference is seen. Children are grumpy. I am bathing and dressing myself again and I even make dinner. Husband says I look nice and prints off a new Sudoku.

Day four: Make children change into clean clothes and they feel the need to ask why. Cleaning continues and the same reactions are seen in respective subjects, however after 2 more hours of cleaning it is easy to see a difference being made and all subjects end up happy and excited to show their daddy what they've done. I start wearing make up, made lunch and dinner today. Husband is happy to see the changes but is wary of believing it to be a permanent change.

Day Five: Take children outside to clean up our white trash yard. We fill the garbage can with much stuff. Many lost gloves, spoons, cups, and shoes are found. I mow the lawn. Children suddenly show interest in playing together and spend an additional 2 hours outside playing soccer, tag, and digging holes under the deck. All receive baths and they all seem happy and helpful the rest of the evening. I go to the store and buy new plastic containers to increase our organizing efficiency and even take subjects #3 and 4 to the children's museum. Husband is extra helpful cleaning the kitchen with me after dinner and helping get kids into bed.

Day 6: Laundry is caught up and put away, dishes are done, I am no longer embarrassed to have people over. Today we intend to finish cleaning downstairs. I have bought nice plastic containers to help the kids sort their toys and some plastic drawers to try this idea with my laundry.

Conclusion: Contrary to what children say, it is obvious that they don't really want to be left alone, or to not work. While subjects seem to complain more in phase 2 of the experiment it is obvious that they are more joyful, constructive, calm, and play together better in this phase. They seem to prefer having clean open spaces in which to run and play physical games than they do being surrounded by electronic gadgets and toys and TV.

We will continue studying subject behavior in phase 2 for 1 more week. Then we will try phase 3 in which we increase the responsibilities and reduce the amount of stuff in subjects' environment.

Pictures are not being used as they were found to be too graphic and shocking for normal human viewing.

Tattoos and Giving Birth

4 years ago, while I was still pregnant with Sweet Terror, I was sitting on a park bench, watching my kids frolic, when another mom came and sat next to me. I noticed that she had 3 kids of her own and, also like me, she had tattoos. Ok, so I only have one small one, a lizard on my foot, and she had both her arms covered from shoulder to wrist. Feeling a sudden kinship through our similarities I couldn't help but say, "I hope you don't mind me being nosy, but, seeing your tattoos, I just have to ask, did you have all your babies naturally?" (Naturally meaning no drugs). She got a big ol' smile and proudly said, "I sure did!" And from there we had a long and wonderful conversation about tattoos and natural childbirth.

I love telling people that I have had all four of my children naturally. Yup, I am one tough mammasita! Ok, so I'm not being a hundred percent honest here. I do get a shot of Stadol in my i.v. but I'm not sure how much pain it kills because it still hurts like nothing else can. And I actually asked for an epidural with Sweet Terror but couldn't because she came too fast (that includes caster oil and deserves it's own post).

Why go natural? For lots of reasons. One: I am a sniveling, yellow tailed, chicken. I can't stand the thought of needles in my back, someone messing with my spine, or having it go wrong (as it did for my sister, and that was awful). Two: I like to think I'm tough. And three: I read way too many stories about Native Americans when I was little and if they could do it, so could I.

After giving birth to my second I started reading in magazines about using hypnosis or focus therapy in childbirth instead of drugs. Everyone was talking about it as if it were some great new invention. I felt even cooler as people would bring up these articles and I could say, in a snobby superior voice, "Oh yes, I used focus therapy and self hypnosis for my first two children." To which most would ask if I had taken a class or where I had learned to do it. There was no class for me, I just did it.

The first time I ever used "Focus Therapy" or self hypnosis for pain was when I was about 8. I was driving home with my dad after a fun daddy-daughter date at the shooting range when I was suddenly in physical agony due to some intestinal something-or-other. All I knew was that I had had it before and it usually entails me writhing on the floor in agony. I felt I couldn't turn into a whiny baby after having just made my dad proud by actually hitting my target several times and almost getting a bulls eye. Plus it was going to be a good 30 minutes till we got home and had a bathroom handy. I panicked. Then I told myself, "Be an indian warrior." I remembered reading about Native American boys going through certain trials before becoming a man. I recalled several stories about how they had to learn to ignore pain. So, what I did was I pretended there was a ball of white light inside me. I focused on that white light and pretended to be in that light where I couldn't feel my body. I stared at the road with a glazed look, not really seeing anything but not wanting to give my dad reason to ask questions. I was able to carry on a conversation with him, only coming out of my light long enough to give a small answer or to say, "Yeah." or "Uh huh". And I made it all the way home without so much as a groan. I don't think he ever knew how much pain I was in that night.

When it came time to have my first baby everyone was asking if I would go natural or get an epidural. My answer was that I was going to try going natural but was open to anything. I don't think I even made a sound until it came time to push (Again, I had read many times that Native American women wouldn't make a sound when delivering a child). I pretended that my head was dislocated from my body and that I was watching the pain instead of feeling it. Part of my focus included a rhythm I was keeping by swinging my knee from side to side. The only time I lost it was when people would touch my knee or try to hold it still (my poor mother in-law, I about bit her head off for touching it). DSSH finally realized what was going on and was very good about protecting that knee. It was still painful beyond belief. I felt it all, but with the focus technique I was able to free my body from reacting to the pain (does that make sense?). Total time 4 hours and only 10 pushes.

With my second baby I used the same technique and also used it to keep my body calm enough that I was able to keep from pushing until the doctor could make it. As soon as she came in I asked, "Can I push now?" She said yes and he came out in one push. Total time 4 hours and one push.

Now my third baby (Monster Man) was a lot harder, but most of that was due to a doctor who would not listen to me no matter how many times I told her how my body worked. I was in so much pain for so long that I had to sing in order to stay focused. This was very entertaining to my husband because I was singing songs from primary when I was a little girl in church. Try singing this when in full labor. He came after 9 hours and about 20 pushes. Stupid doctor!

Baby 4, like I mentioned above is another story for another post.

And as for this baby? I had asked for an epidural with Sweet Terror because I thought she was going to be my last and figured I should just try it. But now I'm thinking I don't want to ruin the awesome record I have going here. So, I'm going to do this one natural too. I can promise you this, though, if I have to do this one more time I am going to ask for the epidural as soon as I'm 3 months along. Can one be kept numb for 6 months?

As a funny side note, the mom with the tattoos shared this little tid bit with me: "Yeah, I thought I would be the coolest mom in the world because I'm so laid back and I've got all these cool tattoos, but whenever I go to my 9 year old son's school he asks me to wear long sleeves so I don't embarrass him. I guess there is some cosmic rule that mom's just can't be cool." I consider that a piece of great wisdom from an experienced mother.

What was your most memorable birthing experience?

Conference and Ice Cream Reviews

Did everyone have a good weekend? I hope so. My weekend was very nice. I sat around doing nothing, I let my children run around like heathens, I let my house get even messier, and then I listened to conference and ate ice cream. Conference was so wonderful and actually quite humbling and motivating. For those of you who don't know what "Conference Weekend" means to us "Mormons" I will elucidate. Twice a year the leaders of our church assemble and speak to us. They travel all around the world all year long speaking to churches, building temples, meeting with foreign and home dignitaries, administering relief aid, and doing other great things, but at General Conference they speak to everyone. Each speaker is allowed to speak on whatever they feel inspired to so there is a wide variety of things that are addressed. This was also a special conference because, after President Hinckley's death, a new Presidency was presented and sustained. Thomas S. Monson is the new President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and he is one heck-uva guy. At the very ending of conference he was telling all these funny stories and had everyone laughing, and right as I started to think that maybe he was going too far he suddenly turned all his funny anecdotes into a powerful message about creating love and joy in our families. One of the talks that seems to be getting the most attention was Russell M. Ballard's talk to young mothers. It was a fabulous talk that aptly captured the humor, the hardship, and the responsibilities of motherhood. It was because of this talk that I woke up happy, bathed all my kids, folded all my laundry, fed everyone, got the kids to school and went to the store to buy fruits and veggies for the week, all before 9am. Anything that can make me do all that with a smile on my face that early in the morning is something good. I can't wait for all the talks to be available for reading and listening to.



And now, time to review all that luscious ice cream:


B&J's Strawberry Cheesecake. You can read my extra comment on this one in the sidebar. It has a scrumptiously thick swirl of crunchy, sugary, buttery graham cracker crust through it that makes it hard to stop eating. YUM!

B&J's Pistachio Pistachio. My husband doesn't understand why I like this one. It isn't very sweet and there is no chocolate or candy in it. It is a subtle pistachio ice cream with whole pistachios throughout. To be enjoyed only by the most avid pistachio lovers. Mmmmmm. I love it.

Haagen Daz's Vanilla Honey & Granola frozen yogurt. This is good, but nothing to write home about. The granola is in small bit rather than big chunks so you get these odd specks of oatmeal throughout the ice cream. I think I would rather just pour my own granola and honey over a bowl of Dreyer's vanilla or caramel flavored ice cream.

Haagen Daz's Mango Sorbet. Have you tried it yet? Come on people, what is the point of me finding the world's best ice creams if you aren't going to try it? I even tried a different brand of Mango Sorbet and it didn't even come close to this. On of my favorite restaurants of all time puts a scoop of this over fruit salad and it is roll your eyes to the back of your head good. It just never ceases to amaze me how much flavor they have packed into this amazing stuff. BUY IT!

Breyer's Chocolate Crackle. Um, yeah, this is Breyer's all natural vanilla with ribbons of Magic Shell through it. Not good. Breyer's natural vanilla is made to be used with other natural ingredients, not fake processed chocolate, so it just didn't work. Also, I like my Magic Shell as a topping, not a stir-in. And if you are going to use Magic Shell, do yourself a favor and find the Heath Bar Magic Shell (So far I've only seen it at WalMart or Winco Foods). It is THE BOMB! But don't put it on Breyer's Natural Vanilla, put it on Dreyer's vanilla.

What I'm Enjoying

I will back on Monday. Today and tomorrow I will be listening to, taking notes from, and absolutely enjoying General Conference. The best advice, and counsel I've ever heard are given during these meetings. See you when it's over.

Edited to add: So, I mentioned Michal's comment/question to my husband about the ice cream and I guess he felt that it would ruin his rep as the best ice cream buying husband in the blogosphere if I didn't have ice cream to blog about. He just called me from the store and is now on his way home with Haagen Daz Vanilla Honey & Granola Frozen Yogurt and their Mango Sorbet (I'm tellin' ya it is the best sorbet in the world), Ben and Jerry's Strawberry Cheesecake and Pistachio Pistachio, and some Breyer's Chocolate Crackle and Heath.

I love him so much. And I'm going to totally blame him when I go to my next doctor's appointment and they chew me out for gaining too much weight again(like they did yesterday).

Modest Nursing

As newly weds, we were driving along the freeway, heading home from visiting family. I am driving as my husband and I chat. Suddenly my husband sits up very straight, with big eyes, and starts rambling about, he wasn't really looking, he didn't mean to, it was just THERE, and he is sorry, please don't be mad at him... and it finally comes out that he was leisurely looking at other drivers as they passed us and suddenly he got an eyefull of frontal nudity as the woman in the car next to us bared herself to nurse her baby. Ha ha ha. Poor guy. That Lady could have used one of these.

Ah, nursing, that sweet magical bond between a mother and her child. Isn't it wonderful? And isn't it great that we live in a modern age where women can feed their children in public, doing what comes naturally without shame? Unless of course your children are like mine:

Cookie: Nursed so loud it was like listening to someone trying to slurp up the last remnants of their milk shake through a straw. "Shhhhllllluurrrpp". And then she would pant and gulp after every slurp as if drowning and gasping for air (which really she was with all the milk that I was producing).

Pablo: Loved to pull the nursing blanket down to smile at me. So sweet, but not when you are in the middle of church or talking with your father in law!

Monster Man: Loved nursing but he would constantly pull away and sing to my breast. It was so adorable, but didn't make for very covert nursing.

Sweet Terror. She was a pincher, twister, puller. She loved to reach up and pull my hair or pinch my neck while nursing. Yeah, she was mean.

And then of course there is the lovely retuck that has to happen after nursing. I got very good at the replace-nursing-pad-rehook-bra-button-up-blouse-and-adjust-waistline-of-skirt-all-with-one-hand while holding on to my nursing blanket with my teeth and holding baby with the other hand while simultaneously wiping milk drool off his cheeks.

Can you imagine my joy, then, in getting a call from my newest sister-in-law telling me that my mom is hiring her to make me a nursing hideaway blanket? They are basically big bibs that go around your neck and keep the baby from uncovering you while nursing. I started seeing these all over the place while I was nursing Sweet Terror but I was too cheap to buy one and too lazy to make one. I am so excited! This will make nursing around others so much easier.

And, as a plug for my sis-in-law, she has just started making these for sale. She is open to doing custom jobs (depending on what you want) and she sews very well. These make great baby shower gifts and they even come in their own matching bag. A must have diaper accessory in my opinion. Now, I just need to convince her to put a pic of my darling new nephew on her site. He is a hunkalicious baby!!!

Recorded for Posterity

As I was writing this morning's post Pablo came to tattle tale on Monster Man for going outside. I mumbled something about not tattling and kept writing. A few minutes later Monster Man came inside and I called, "Hey, Monster Man, come here!" and he just ran right past me. I was about to get upset when I realized he was running to the bathroom. Shrugging my shoulders I go back to blogging. About 10 minutes later Monster Man comes up and says, "Yes, mom?" I give him a blank stare, "What?"
"I said, 'yes, mom?' what did you want to talk to me about?"

He must have really had to go, but it was so sweet that he remembered me.

Rules To Live By

How to be a successful mother (according to me):

1. Decorate your home with large, beautiful baskets so that when unexpected company comes over you can quickly stash and hide all the toys, junk, piles, socks, etc.

2. Keep cookie dough in your freezer AT ALL TIMES.

3. Don't EVER allow your husband to buy you a wonderfully thick, nice, fluffy bathrobe. Who wants to wear clothes when you can wear a cloud all day?

4. Make code names for all your children so that you can talk about them without them getting embarrassed (and change the code names often).

5. Don't let your children listen to any radio station other than the one you love. They will think you are all knowing because you know all the words to every song that comes on.

6. Never run out of cold cereal. Children can survive the momentary loss of a mother (think books, movies, phone conversations, and the random sporadic nap) if there is cold cereal in the house.

7. Puke bowls and towels. Know how to use them. If you can have fire drills you can have puke drills.

8. Keep wet wipes on hand at all times and in all places till the day you die.

9. Never compare yourself to other mothers unless you know you will win.

10. Accept that children will make guns out of innocent blocks and their own fingers. Don't try to fight it, just get really good at playing dead.